Logs:Wat fo do
| Wat fo do | |
|---|---|
| Dramatis Personae | 2023-06-05 "Who tink 'bout Kavalam. No can." |
| Location | |
The sign by the door says "Rec Room", but someone with a permanent marker bookended the first word with "W" and "k" at some point, and the subsequent effort to undo the vandalism was lackluster. Inside it looks little different from dozens of other rec rooms in the complex, solidly furnished and in good repair, rarely an actual wreck, though it might be more interesting if it were. A large flatscreen television mounted on the wall dominates the space, with rows of folding chairs arrayed before it and many more stowed in the closet except on movie nights. The rest of the space is divided about evenly between reading and "activity" areas. A long sectional sofa brackets off the former, leaving the wallspace free for tall shelves, largely stocked with supermarket checkout paperbacks (about half James Patterson by volume, with Danielle Steel heavily represented). The latter plays host to several sagging card tables ringed with yet more folding chairs, supplied by tall shelves of games (mostly playing cards, chess, and Monopoly, variously missing pieces) and art supplies (a lot of crayons and pencils and markers, with some dried out paints and crunchy brushes). "I tink." It's the first time Kelawini has spoken in a while, where she's determinedly not slumped at the card table they've staked out for business this evening. "Dis one differen." She jerks her chin up at the television screen, where an episode of Law and Order (SVU, even though it's Monday) has been ongoing for a while. Her left eye, slightly narrowed where it's swollen from an earlier brawl in the cafeteria (you should see the other guy), makes her look almost cartoonishly disdainful of the touching moment onscreen between the fiery ADA and the unfortunate child he's rescued with his legal acumen and who will definitely not have any more problems going forward. "Odder night the kine wen get more better pipo." "Differen, same, dey need get da Freak Sqaud hea. Oddah ones all 'ino. Make us watch luuluu buggahs all day, dat's one torture." Nanami's back is to the television, but she's slowly tipping her head backwards, squinting upside-down at the screen before she looks back to her sister. She sits up straighter as a thin and ratty-looking older white man approaches their table, her smile bright and her voice shifting smoothly into something softer, than her broad pidgin tone. "-- Oh, Casper-kun," she's cutting him off with a regretful smile before he's even had a chance to speak, though something between her wide eyes, Exotic Honorific or voice gentled with apology seems to immediately throw off any inclination he had toward being irritated at the preemption, "you know I want to help you out but my sister --" She's tipped a hand out towards Kelawini, "says you still owe us. Fifteen minutes, three times a day, you keep the chapel clear and then you can collect each night, right?" She's not actually waiting for answer, just turning back to Kelawini -- the man is frowning at the bigger Māhoe sister and not paying the smaller one much mind at all. Grumbling something about How Many Times Do These Kids Pray Anyway as he shuffles back off, booze-less. Nanami drops her cheek into her hand, continuing in a wry and amused English: "... except how we can't go home, this feels kind of like school in Chicago. Same number of fights, go to class about as much." Kelawini's expression drops readily into Don't Fuck With Me mode the moment Casper wanders up. She does not speak, does not nod when Nanami indicates her, just levels her flattest, most unimpressed gaze at the man until he leaves again, empty-handed. It's only after a small consideration of the comparison between Prometheus and public school that she replies, "Learn more, here." Not that she's sounding very thrilled about this educational opportunity. Her eyes stray back to Law and Order. "Chicago days you neva get no boyfriends. Hea..." She studies her sister, then adds, almost reluctantly, "Eh, what you tink 'bout Kavalam?" "Kavalam?" Nanami's brows lift and she doesn't bother trying to suppress her smirk. "Who tink 'bout Kavalam. No can." Her amusement is short-lived, though, before she has to concede: "... can, now. He one real akamai guy, ya? We wen let him make da plans, mebbe we stay outta trouble." She levels a scrutinizing look on Kelawini. "... why? You tink 'bout Kavalam lots, now?" Kelawini blushes furiously and shoves Nanami, but it's kind of a token shove. "I tink plenny." Kind of defensive but not a denial. "He stay make da plans now. Mebbe we lissen, bumbai..." She glares around the room, probably not for eavesdroppers, though she looks like she'd be glad of something to beat up, right about now. "You know I wen get one date wit um? Dat night we come hea. Plenny times befo, too." She throws up her hands. "Erytime I foget. Now? No can stop tinking 'bout um." Nanami leans forward, pushing her weight exaggeratedly back against that shove like she totally saw it coming. Her brow lift when Kelawini throws her hands up. "Why you come shame? You like him? He make you stay good inside? Notting bad 'bout that." Though she's reconsidering this with a slow sideways twist of her lips. "... hea. We go back, stay skoo bumbai... mebbe again you go forget him." Her arms cross over her chest, frown settling heavily across her face. "He like you. Mebbe go figga wat kine stuff you guys gotta do fo memba him good." Kelawini nods, an uncharacteristically quiet agreement with Nanami's assessment. "Fo shua I like him, I no shame dat. But I no want fo bum him out no mo." This time when she looks around she seems kind of distantly hopeful. "You tink we get chance? We pau try plenny kine stuffs, befo times." The sudden tug of a smile makes her look a good deal more herself in an instant. "Bummahs da shitfucks hea no can teach him, ey?" "Can teach him how fo do plenny," Nanami answers with a shrug, a shake of her head. "He tell em he stay hea, dey stay ready fo teach him guaranz ballbaaranz." Her flat tone doesn't much suggest whether or not she thinks this is a good idea, but she follows it up with: "Mebbe he wen give up da kine hea, mebbe he hide, mebbe dat kokua us mo bettah." Again, a small twist of his mouth to the side. "I no tink dat kokua him. But he stay tight wit us till dis all come pau." Kelawini rests her elbows on the table, hunching her broad shoulders. "Mebbe..." It's hard to tell whether she's agreeing, disagreeing, or just commenting, and with regards to what part. It's a shockingly long hesitation before she finally decides on, "Mebbe I ask what he like mo bettah." "Mebbe." Nanami sounds fairly noncommittal about this prospect. Her eyes skim the sad rec room, the guards, the TV, Casper off in a corner complaining to a friend, then return to her sister. "Whole month we stay hea now awready. You figga Kavalam no stay tinking, what he like bettah?" She sucks her teeth, eyes turning toward the ceiling. "He one akamai guy," is her repeated and more emphatic insistence, now. "Fo sho he wen tink on alla dis awready. Mebbe what he like mo bettah is, we all stay alive." She's rubbing, tired, at one eye with her knuckles. "Bumbai you ask, though." Kelawini does not argue, though she looks very much as though she would like to. "Yah no, you right." This admission is low, kind of reluctant. Then, less so, "I like fo make us stay alive, too. I no like fo foget him no mo, az all." She leans back in her chair and watches Law and Order fade to credits. "We goin figga something, bumbai." | |
